Prisoner of Love
by LupinFan227
Summary: While Blaise Zabini is under house arrest with Ron Weasley, it is the young Auror who finds himself held captive by his own emotions toward the former Death Eater. This is the behind the scenes to Propensity.


**Prisoner of Love**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Dedication: This is for aikakone, who wanted some unconventional shipping. Enjoy!

A/N- This is the Ron/Blaise back-story from my longer story "Propensity." This story can stand alone, but if there things in it that are difficult to understand, I would suggest reading "Propensity."

* * *

I woke up early that morning, earlier than usual, to the smell of breakfast. I wondered, "Is Mum here?" No one else would make breakfast, especially not this early in the morning. I trudged out of bed, down the stairs to the kitchen of my flat. There, before me, stood my prisoner. . .cooking. . .in his skivvies. 

Any witch-or wizard, for that matter-could see that Blaise Zabini was attractive. Tall, muscular, graceful...yes, this was a handsome bloke. But why, _why_ was he cooking in my kitchen...in his skivvies?

I tried to ignore the sudden tightness in my pajama pants or at least rationalize that it was just a typical morning response, but I couldn't deny that it was there, no more than I could deny that Blaise was still in his skivvies in my kitchen.

Just as I was about to ask why he was cooking in his skivvies, Blaise turned, giving me, what seemed to be, a shy smile. Surely he wasn't embarrassed. He was Blaise-bloody-Zabini! He has never been shy in his life. Before I could say anything, he spoke.

"Hungry?" he asked.

In truth, I was, but should I trust what he'd cooked? After all, he'd helped hold my sister and my friend prisoner. He'd been a Death Eater. He'd been in Azkaban. Should I trust him? I tried to politely decline, but, as usual, my mouth ignored my brain.

"Yes, thanks," I said, much to my own dismay. "I'm starved actually."

He grinned at me, showing off those perfect white teeth, which were so rare in Britain. His white teeth were such a contrast to his olive complexion and wavy black hair. It was a nice contrast.

His dimples showed when he smiled broadly like that, and I found myself grinning back, though I'm positive I didn't look as dashing first thing in the morning as he.

I tried to flatten my hair down as he spooned eggs and sausages onto a plate. He set it in front of me, along with a steaming mug of coffee. I reached for the sugar and cream, but he stopped me, gripping my wrist firmly, yet gently.

"Don't," he said. "I've already done it."

Trying desperately to ignore the tingling going through my arm from his touch, I comprehended his words. "But how'd you know how I fix my coffee?"

"Ron," he said, releasing his grip on my wrist, "I've lived with you for almost three months. I know how you take your coffee." He turned and busied himself with his own plate. Meanwhile, my mind raced. Three months? Had it really been that long? I remember the day as though it were yesterday.

I couldn't believe when Kingsley Shacklebolt said I was the Auror in charge of Blaise's house arrest. After all, it was my sister he'd held prisoner. But he was considered a low-risk prisoner, and I had only been an Auror for just under a year. I was the only person to do it. I've never regretted it.

At first, I ignored him. And in turn, he ignored me. He always kept out of my way and never demanded anything from me. He seemed ashamed of his crimes, even though we never found any evidence of him using an Unforgiveable on anyone. Ginny says he helped her and Remus during their capture. Perhaps that's why I left him alone.

We finally found common ground with Quidditch. Oddly enough, Blaise was a Cannons fan, lifelong even. Our friendship grew from there. We never ran out of things to talk about, though there were some subjects we avoided, such as the War or his friends from school. I figured he'd stay until his sentence was over in six months and move on. I'd secretly hoped we'd keep in touch, but I never counted on it.

It wasn't until this very morning that I realized I was in love with him.

He was cooking in my kitchen like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he belonged there. And damn it, I liked that. I never realized that I was even attracted to him. I mean, it was obvious that he was a good-looking bloke. And the last time I thought _that_ about a guy was back in fourth year, just after Seamus got out of the shower.

But Blaise was gorgeous. His long, lean legs moved gracefully around the kitchen. I could see the way his stomach muscles flexed as he leaned over to get out a pan from the bottom cupboard. Oddly enough, it was his shoulders that renewed the bulge in my pants. No man I had ever seen had shoulders like that. Suddenly, I found myself wanting to have those shoulders pressed up against my own.

I felt myself redden at that thought and attempted to concentrate solely on eating this lovely breakfast he had cooked for me.

It didn't help that he set his plate down on the table and sat across from me. Nor did it help when we both reached for the marmalade at the same time. I jerked my hand away and almost managed to miss the slightly hurt look on his face. I smiled weakly at him, and that seemed to help.

"So," he said as he delicately buttered his toast, "going to the office today?"

Since Blaise had been with me, I usually spent at least two days at the Ministry and worked from home the rest of the time. After all, Blaise the prisoner was my main objective. It didn't matter if I wasn't home. He had a Charm on him that prevented him from leaving and could only use the Floo for emergencies. Nor could anyone else Apparate or Floo to my flat while he was there alone.

"Yeah, I'm going in for a bit," I replied. Actually, I'd lied. I hadn't been planning on going to the office that day. But after my sudden realization of attraction that morning, I couldn't very well stay here with him.

He actually looked disappointed, but he didn't say so. We just ate in silence, and then I hurried through getting dressed and left for work.

I spent the morning filling out boring paperwork related to Blaise's activities. Since he didn't really have any, it was a short report. I spent the rest of my time trying to decide who to talk to about my "problem." Ginny was the obvious choice, but she and I weren't exactly on speaking terms. I was still upset with her for getting pregnant with Remus Lupin's baby and dumping Oliver Wood, and I didn't think she'd want my first words to her in three months to be, "Gin, I think I'm gay."

Fred and George were out. They'd only make fun of me. Percy wouldn't understand. He would try to, but then he would just get frustrated and start talking about Wizarding laws related to homosexuality. I suppose I could try Charlie. He might understand, but what exactly would I say? "_Hey, big brother. How's it going? Remember my prisoner, you know, the one who held our sister captive? Well, I think I'm in love with him. Love, Ron._" No, that most definitely wouldn't work. I decided the best course of action would be to go back to ignoring Blaise completely. Yes, that would be best.

I could not have been more wrong, as usual.

* * *

Blaise was no idiot. He knew something was wrong. I just hoped he didn't figure out what exactly was wrong. For all I knew, he was completely into girls. He'd never given me any cause to think my feelings would be returned. And I didn't want him running to the Ministry, ranting about sexual harassment from his warden. He tried to talk to me, but I made sure I brought plenty of reports home to keep me occupied.

Two nights after the morning-skivvies incident, I was calmly working on a report for Kingsley. I was beginning to feel a bit like Percy with all this paperwork, but at least it was keeping me busy. Blaise was off in his room doing something. I didn't bother finding out what. Suddenly, Professor Snape's head appeared in my Floo. He wanted Blaise.

I knocked on his door and opened it. Blaise was jogging on one of those Muggle things, a treadmill or something, that I'd been storing for Dad. When he saw me, he stopped. So did I. I didn't move or say anything. I just stared.

He was only wearing a pair of grey running shorts, socks and his trainers. I suddenly became fascinated with a bead of sweat that ran all the way from one of those wonderful shoulders down his chest, over his stomach muscles and eventually disappeared into that course, dark hair just under his navel. I found myself licking my lips, thinking about where that hair disappeared to under those shorts. Before my mind could wander anymore, his voice broke my thoughts.

"Did you need something, Ron?" he asked, catching his breath. His shoulders rose and fell heavily and steadily with each breath. It was a beautiful thing to watch.

I shook my head to clear it. "Um, Professor Snape's in the Floo for you," I said, hoping against hope that my voice didn't betray my dirty mind. My throat was awfully dry.

Blaise nodded and stepped off the treadmill. I couldn't move. I just stood there, watching him walk towards me. How is it that he did everything so perfectly? I usually just look like a frump, but Blaise had the grace and elegance of someone raised in his aristocratic background.

As he made his way out the door, he brushed against me. He was so close. I could smell his sweat and feel the flex in his muscles. "Pardon me," he whispered. I shivered at the feel of his breath on my ear. Then, suddenly, he was gone. I couldn't handle it anymore. While he was talking to Snape, I gathered my reports and retreated to my room. What I needed was a good wank and a good night's sleep.

* * *

The next day wasn't any better. I stuttered every time he spoke to me, and whenever he looked at me, I couldn't help remembering last night's wank and how I imagine it wasn't my hand doing the work. I prayed to Merlin he wasn't a Leglimens.

That afternoon, I'd just finished a letter to Hermione. I still couldn't believe she was dating Snape. The whole idea was ridiculous, really. Blaise, of course, thought it was brilliant. He was just glad his old Head of House was getting some action.

I was about to send my letter with Pig when Blaise interrupted me. "After you send that, could I ask you something?" he asked. He actually seemed nervous. I briefly wondered if he was ill and expected me to just let him be sick.

"Sure, just give me a sec," I replied.

Seriously, I was worried about the bloke. I didn't want him to be ill. My heart started pounding rapidly. I could barely stop my hands from shaking long enough to tie the letter to Pig's leg. It didn't help that the ruddy owl was still as hyperactive as ever.

After Pig had flown off, I went back to my living room. Blaise was pacing nervously about the room. Not really thinking, I went over to him and gently grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Sit down, Blaise," I said, pulling him over to the sofa. I looked at him. He was quite pale and looked upset. My worry multiplied tenfold. "Are you all right? Do we need to go to St. Mungo's?" My voice was shaky, but I didn't care. He was scaring me.

He smiled a little at me and shook his head. "Physically, I'm fine. Really," he insisted at my doubtful expression. "I just need to tell you something."

I hadn't released my grip on his arm, but I did loosen my hold on him a bit. "What is it, Blaise?" His blue eyes searched mine, almost as if he were asking permission. Then, before I knew what was happening, his eyes came closer and closer to me, before closing slowly. Entirely by instinct, my eyes closed as well. That's when it happened.

My lips were suddenly covered by others. The lips that covered mine were full and soft, teasing mine. They started to pull away, but my lips found them again quickly. This time, the other lips took my lower one in between them, gently sucking. Blaise's lips were kissing mine!

After several moments, he turned his head, giving a new angle to the kiss. I felt his tongue lightly stroking the seam of my lips, so I opened my mouth to let his tongue lightly stroke mine. This wasn't my first kiss by any means, other than being my first kiss with another bloke. But it held all the excitement and anxiousness and hesitation of a first kiss. It was bloody fantastic!

Entirely too soon for me, he pulled away. I guess you really do need oxygen to breathe, I discovered. I looked at Blaise, who, in turn, was smiling back at me. Remember how I said my mouth often ignored my brain? Well, it happened again.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked. I really wish sometimes that I could just kick myself. The smile fell from Blaise's face, and he backed away from me.

"I'm...I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I just thought that...well, I wanted to, and I thought you did too." He started to stand, but I grabbed his arm again and pulled him back down.

"You wanted to?" I asked him, my voice cracking slightly. Shit, I sounded like a third-year just hitting puberty.

"Yes, I wanted to, Ron," he said. "I'm attracted to you. I have been for a while now. And I've been getting the impression you were attracted to me, too. Was I wrong?" he asked, taking my hand in his and lightly stroking the back of my knuckles with his thumb.

"Bloody hell!" I cried. "You knew? Was I that obvious?"

Blaise laughed. His voice was like music, deep, rich music.

"No, you weren't that obvious. I promise," he assured me. "I just have a sense about these things. I've been trying to get your attention for a while now." I must have looked shocked because he winked and said, "Surely you didn't think I normally cooked breakfast in my skivvies in December."

"You're brilliant," I said, laughing. I could hardly believe my ears, and I'm sure they were red! I leaned over to kiss him again, but he pulled away quickly.

"Wait," he said. "There's something else." He wriggled free of my grip, stood and walked away, with his back to me. "There's something more."

Just as quickly as my worry had disappeared, it returned. I followed him across the room and stood behind him. "What is it?" I asked.

"It's not just attraction for me, Ron," he said quietly. "I mean, yes, I'm physically attracted to you, but I'm also emotionally attracted to you, very emotionally attracted."

I realized this is what girls must feel like when some bloke says he loves her for the first time. I felt like I was floating. My heart skipped a beat or two, and I wanted nothing more than to tell Blaise I felt the same way. But my mouth wouldn't obey my brain again. I just put my hand on his shoulder- his marvelous shoulder- and turned him to face me. Then I said the stupidest thing imaginable.

"You're physically attracted to me?" I asked.

"How could I not be?" he answered, bringing a hand up to trace my jaw line with his finger. "You're gorgeous with those big, blue eyes and those delicious lips, that fabulous body. And I've always found red hair a turn-on." His smile faded and disappointment took over his face. "But if it's just a physical thing for you, please tell me."

I managed to get my wits about me before I spoke this time. "It's not just a physical thing, Blaise. I...think that I might be...falling in love with you," I whispered. I bit my lip as I awaited his reaction.

As long as I live, I'll never forget hearing his words for the first time. "I love you, too, Ron," he said. The hand that was holding my jaw moved to the back of my neck to tangle in my hair, while I brought my hand down from his shoulder to around his waist.

It was awkward kissing him this time, seeing as how we're the same height. Usually when I've kissed someone, they've been shorter than me, but Blaise and I were equally matched at 6' 3". I knew that I could get over this awkwardness quickly, especially since Blaise was a brilliant kisser, and I wanted more of this.

Blaise finally broke our kiss and rested his forehead against mine. "I'm so relieved," he said, panting. "I just knew you were going to kick me out for coming onto you."

I stroked his back and replied, "And here I was worried you were going to turn me into the Ministry for sexual harassment."

"Never," he replied, pressing his hips into mine. "You can harass me any time and any way you like."

Suddenly a thought came to my mind. "Um, have you ever...you know...been with another bloke?"

He gently dropped his hands from my neck and backed away a few steps. "Yes, why?"

"Can I ask who?" I asked. For some reason, I just had to know.

He shrugged. "A Ravenclaw back in school. He was a year ahead of us. It wasn't anything serious. I'd just figured out that I liked wizards instead of witches, and he did, too. We shagged a few times. That was it." He sighed and looked at me. "Does that bother you?"

"Not really," I said, refusing to meet his eyes. He placed a hand under my chin and raised my face up to meet his. "I mean, I've only been with girls...a girl, before. I'm not sure how this works," I admitted.

"Ron," he said, running his thumb over my bottom lip, "you don't have to do anything you don't want it. Right now, it's enough for me to know that you feel the same way as me."

"But I want to," I replied. In all honesty, I did, though I was terrified I would disappoint him. "Blaise, I want you." He leaned in and kissed me again. This time, it wasn't soft and sweet. It was passionate and fierce and demanding. I liked it.

After that, things got a little hazy for me.

When I finally started paying attention again, we were lying in Blaise's bed. My shirt had disappeared somewhere in the hallway. His was across the room somewhere. As he kissed my neck, I reached for the buckle of his pants. I wanted to see more of him, feel more of him. He raised up enough for me to slide his trousers down, before he stood and removed them all the way. He reached for mine, and I let him pull mine all the way off and discard them on the floor.

He climbed back onto the bed, and I looked at the beautiful man crawling up towards me. How did I get so lucky? Blaise was the fantasy of many witches- and apparently wizards, too- at school. To be honest, he'd never really crossed my mind until he came to live with me.

Instead of lying beside me now, he laid down on top of me, resting his weight on his arms on either side of me. I leaned up to kiss him again, and the shift in our positions caused our hips to brush against each other. The contact was such intense pleasure that I couldn't contain the loud moan that escaped my mouth.

I felt Blaise smile against lips, and he slid his hips down to brush against mine again. "Oh, Blaise," I groaned. "That feels bloody fantastic." He moaned and grunted in response.

"What happens now?" I asked. Stupid, Ron, stupid!

He looked at me with lust-filled eyes and said, "We'll go as slow as you want. Just do what feels natural."

Natural? Well, let me think...when I snogged girls before I always ran my hands over their body, paying close attention to their breasts. But...Blaise didn't have breasts, but maybe it still worked the same way. It was worth a shot, at any rate.

I slowly ran my hands from around his back to his chest, brushing my thumbs over his nipples. His breath hitched, and he closed his eyes. I figured it really must work the same way, so I replaced my thumbs with my lips and tongue. And bloody hell, if Blaise didn't like that!

As I was kissing his chest, I decided to do what I would have done if he'd been a girl. I slid one hand down to his arse and squeezed it. In turn, he ground his hips back into mine, and I almost forgot what I was doing.

I could feel his erection pressing into mine, and instantly, I wanted to rid him of those skivvies. I pushed them down over his hips, but he took over and practically ripped them off. Before I could say or do anything, he yanked mine off too.

Suddenly, realization hit me. Here I was, Ron Weasley, naked in bed with another bloke. Before I could stop myself, I started laughing...loudly.

Blaise, who had taken over the chest-kissing, stopped and looked up at me. "Do you not like that?" he asked.

"No," I sputtered. "It's not that. I very much like what you're doing. I was just laughing at the situation. Did you ever in your wildest imagination think we'd be in bed together?" I asked.

He looked thoughtful for a moment before getting a mischievous glint, which would rival Fred and George, in his eye. "Yes, I did, actually," he replied cheekily. "But in my wildest imagination, you were howling a lot more." Before I could respond, he resumed kissing down my body.

I was just starting to relax when I felt a hand around me...down there. And it wasn't my hand! Blaise slowly stroked me, while I moaned and groaned loudly.

"Yes, that's better," he whispered in a husky voice as he continued to stroke me. Being a man, he knew just how to do it, light at first, then a little firmer. I decided I'd better return the favor.

I can honestly say that before that day I had never touched another bloke's manhood before. It felt weird, though not entirely in a bad way. Blaise was enjoying it as much as I was, or, at least, I thought so from the noises he was making. He kissed me again, this time deeper and more intense than before.

After several moments of this, I felt the telltale stirring in my nether regions. I could barely speak, but I still managed to make a complete arse of myself. As Blaise was kissing my neck, I managed to squeak out, "Blaise, I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to have to come." I was mortified by what I'd said, but it didn't matter.

No sooner had the words left my mouth, than I shouted my release. Blaise, still pumping away at me, came a few seconds later. Just as he had, I kept stroking until his moaning ceased.

He collapsed against me, resting his head against my chest. I wrapped my arms around him, and with my clean hand, I stroked his sweaty hair. Once we'd regained normal breathing, he raised his head to look at me. His eyes were clouded over with satisfaction, and he smiled at me.

"We are a sticky mess, aren't we?" he asked. He reached over for his wand and cast a cleaning spell on us both before lying next to me. He brushed hair from my eyes and ran his fingers lightly over my chest.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensations of Blaise- who I suppose was now my lover- touching me. I wanted to ask him a question, but I didn't know if I wanted to hear his answer. So I kept my eyes closed.

"Blaise, what do we do now?" I asked hesitantly.

I heard him chuckle before he answered, "Well, if it was nighttime, we'd hold each other all night and sleep. But since it's the middle of the afternoon, perhaps some tea would be in order. Then we can decide."

"No, I mean, what do 'we' do?" I asked again, putting an emphasis on the "we."

"Oh, that," he answered. I opened my eyes a little to see that he was thinking. "Well, let's recap, shall we?" As he spoke, he ticked things off on his fingers. "We've kissed, declared our love for each other, and gotten each other off, which, in case I haven't said, I very much enjoyed. We can do whatever you want, Ron, whatever you're ready for or comfortable with."

I laid my hand atop his on my chest and sighed. "I want you to move your stuff out of this room." He looked panicked for a moment, but I continued, "I want you to move it into mine." Grinning, he leaned up to kiss me again.

We did manage to move his things into my room that day...it was just much later in the day.


End file.
